


The Tears Shed in '66

by sombreromoustache



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Drill Sergeant, Gen, Slurs, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sombreromoustache/pseuds/sombreromoustache
Summary: As the war goes on, more and more men sign up to be shipped off to fight in Vietnam. Some never come back, and others leave something behind.





	The Tears Shed in '66

**Author's Note:**

> If you are not comfortable with racial and/or derogatory slurs, I suggest you avoid reading this. This is intended to be a period piece of the late sixties and as an homage to Vietnam films such as Full Metal Jacket.

“My name, is Gunnery Sergeant Arnold T. Grassley, and from this moment on, I am your shepard, and you are my sheep. I will be your entire fucking world! I will be what prepares you for killing the gook-eyed charlies of ‘Nam. Do you understand me?!”  
“Sir, yes sir,”  
“BULLSHIT! I can’t fucking hear you!”  
“SIR, YES SIR!!” the platoon gave what the sergeant determined as a proper response.  
The Sergeant inspected each of his recruits, giving them a stare equal to one would receive from the Angel of Death, “I believe that Uncle Sam has fucked me over. The marine corps is specifically made for men of action, not pussy-footed faggots! And yet, that is what I have received! Do you all think that makes me happy?!”  
None of the recruits shared his sentiment, but it was an act they had to participate, lest they wanted to receive a physical punishment, “SIR, NO SIR!”  
The sergeant eyed a bigger fellow with a bandana wrapped around his head, “Big piles of shit like you are what disgust me the most! TELL ME, TUBBY! Do you wish to insult my beloved corps with your disgusting presence?!”  
“SIR, NO SIR!” he wasn’t expecting to be the first grilled by a sergeant, but his luck had usually been poor anyway.  
“THEN TELL ME! How will I transform this immense pile of misery into a killing machine?! Where are you from, private?!”  
“SIR, I’M FROM LIVERMORE, SIR!”  
“Are you a greaser?” he asked, at first not receiving an answer from the private, “PRIVATE I ASKED A QUESTION, I EXPECT AN ANSWER!”  
“Sir, no sir!”  
“Then what the hell are you?! I’ll tell you now, the Marine Corps does not appreciate any kind of stubborness!”  
“Sir, I’m Samoan, sir!”  
“And I’m from fucking Neverland! That sounds like a made up place where you can fill your tummy with all kinds of treats!” he yelled into his face before moving on, “A land you will not find in ‘Nam. There you will face a hell on earth, the likes of which you have never seen! ‘Nam will chew you up and spit you out like the garbage you are! But I will train each and every single one of you, to be the ultimate killing machine! You are all equal in my house! You are all zero! Do you copy?!”  
One of the recruits was starting to get annoyed with the schpeal of being insulted over and over, and while everyone in the bunk did the proper response, he had the guts or the stupidity to yell, “Sir, no sir!” louder than anyone else, just so he could hear it.  
The two recruits at his side didn’t turn to face him but their eyes immediately went to his direction, and their thoughts were filled with phrases that had a similarity to, “What the hell did you just do?”  
“Who said that?” he briefly showed bewilderment before regaining his composure, “WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?!” he charged to the side of the bunk where he heard the outlier, “WHO’S THE SLIMY PIECE OF PIG SHIT THAT JUST SIGNED HIS OWN DEATH WARRANT?! WHICH ONE OF YOU SAID THAT?!” he got in the face of about five recruits, trying to intimidate them into confessing, “So, one of you had the balls to disrespect me in my fucking church! I will court martial you so hard until you won’t be able to take a shit without the fucking CIA knowing!”  
“Sir, I said it sir!” the sergeant eyed the man with the guts or the stupidity to speak out against the drill instructor.  
“Well! We may have the bravest motherfucker ever trained in the marine corps! WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!”  
He stared down into the drill sergeant’s eyes, wanting to punch him in the face, “Sir, it’s Lance McClain, sir!”  
“McClain?! You got the name of an Irishman but you’ve got the face of a spick! Care to explain that?”  
“Sir, why should I, sir?!”  
The recruit standing next to him wasn’t expecting this Lance to be with the platoon for much longer, “Private McClain! I should stomp out your guts for daring to question your superior officer!”  
“Sir, yes sir!”  
“Then will you be angry when I do this?!” the sergeant jabbed Lance in the gut hard enough to drop him to his knees. He felt the blow and gasped for air.  
“YOU WILL RESPECT MY COMMAND, PRIVATE MCCLAIN! I WILL TURN YOU INTO A RESPECTABLE HUMAN BEING! NOW GET ON YOUR FUCKING FEET!”  
Lance stood up and stared ahead to the other side of the bunk, “Sir, yes sir!”  
“I will turn you into a better man than Mexico ever could!”  
“Sir, my family is from Cuba, sir!”  
“So you’re from Fidel’s backyard?! Doesn’t make a fucking difference!” he walked to the next recruit, “What’s your name, maggot?!”  
“Sir, Keith Kogane, sir!”  
“Why have you joined the Marine Corps?”  
“Sir, to kill, sir!”  
“So you’re a killer?! Are you a killer for us are you a killer for the charlies?”  
“Sir, I’m a killer for us, sir!”  
“Then you’ll do well in this platoon,” he walked to the next recruit, a shorter looking fellow with glasses, “What’s your story, scumbag?!”  
“Sir, my name is Pidge Gunderson, sir!”  
“Pidge? Sounds like the noise your mama made when she saw ya coming out of her asscheeks! What the hell kinda name is that?!”  
“Sir, it was my father’s name, sir!”  
“Well now I just feel bad for you and your father!” he walked past the recruit and eyed all of them one last time, “Welcome to Hollywood, ladies. For the next eight weeks you will be put through the hardest and most difficult test your worthless excuses for bodies have ever gone through!. And if you survive my hand you will be sent to ‘Nam. But until then, let’s rock and roll, and let’s train!”

* * *

The year was 1966. The Beatles just released their Revolver Album, Hawaii had come out, and the Second Indochina War had just turned eleven years old.


End file.
